In a letter, dated Newburyport, 20th of January, 1814, he remarks—“I shall ever view as one of the most unfortunate events of my life having quitted the Enterprise at the moment I did. Had I remained in her a fortnight longer, my name might have been classed with those who stand so high. I cannot but consider it a mortifying circumstance that I left her but a few days before she fell in with the only enemy on this station with which she could have creditably contended. I confess I felt heartily glad when I received my order to take command of the Wasp, conceiving that there was no hope of doing anything in the Enterprise. But when I heard of the contest of the latter ship, and witnessed the great delay in the equipment of the former, I had no cause to congratulate myself. The Peacock has ere this spread her plumage to the winds, and the Frolic will soon take her revels on the ocean, but the Wasp will, I fear, remain for some time a dull, harmless drone in the waters of her own country. Why this is, I am not permitted to inquire!” These extracts will strike the reader as being strongly indicative of an amiable and heroic character. There is something touching in his gratitude to the good old lady who had manifested an interest in his successes. There is something noble in his reference to the memory of his father, as a motive stimulating him in the path of honor; and there is something heroic, we think, in the unaffected manner in which he expresses his regret at having left the Enterprise.
It is unnecessary to remark here, that it was in the action between that vessel and the Boxer, that Burrows conquered, and lost his life.
Yet Blakeley regretted he had not been in his place, either because he considered the sacrifice of life as a cheap price for the purchase of glory, or had forgotten, in his love of fame, that such a price had been paid. But he was determined before long to acquire at least equal reputation, and to perish equally with the regrets of his country. After various services, Blakeley was appointed, in 1813, to the Wasp, with the rank of master commandant.
In this vessel he fell in with his Britannic majesty’s ship Reindeer, mounting sixteen twenty-four pound carronades, two long nine pounders, and a shifting twelve pound carronade; and having a complement of one hundred and eighteen men. An action commenced, and, in nineteen minutes ended in the capture of the Reindeer. The loss of the Americans was twenty-one killed and wounded; that of the enemy sixty-seven. The Reindeer was cut to pieces in such a manner as to render it impossible to save her, and she was accordingly set on fire. After this the Wasp put into L’Orient; from which port she sailed on the 27th of August, and four days afterwards, falling in with ten sail of merchantmen, under a convoy of a ship of the line, she succeeded in cutting off one of the vessels. On the evening of the first of September, 1814, she fell in with four sail, two on each bow, but at considerable distances from each other. The first was the British brig-of-war Avon, which struck after a severe action; but Captain Blakeley could not take possession, as another enemy was fast approaching. This enemy, it seems, however, was called off to the assistance of the Avon, which was now sinking. The enemy reported that they had sunk the Wasp by the first broadside; but she was afterwards spoken by a vessel off the Western Isles. After this we hear of her no more; and though her fate is certain, the circumstances attending it are beyond the reach of discovery. The most general impression is that she was lost by one of those casualties incident to the great deep, which have destroyed so many gallant vessels in a manner no one knows how; for there are so many uncertainties connected with the unfathomable deep, that even imagination is bewildered in tracing the fate of those who are only known to have perished, because they are never more heard of or seen.
Another impression is, that the Wasp, very shortly after being spoken off the Western Isles, had a severe engagement with a British frigate, which put into Lisbon in a shattered condition; and reported having had an action, in the night, with a vessel which they believed to have sunk. But whatever may have been the fate of the generous Blakeley, this much is certain, that he will, to use his own expression, “be classed among those names that stand so high.”
The lustre of his exploits, not less than the interest excited by those who remembered how, in his very boyhood, he was left, as he says, without a single being around him with whom he could claim kindred blood,—how, by his merit, he obtained friends, and conferred honor on that country which was not only his parent, but which has become the parent of his only child; and how, last of all, he perished, is known only to One who rules the sea, and commands the troubled waves to “be still;”—has all given to his character, his history, his achievements and his fate, a romantic interest, marking the name of Blakeley for lasting and affectionate remembrance.
Notwithstanding his professional duties, which were scarcely interrupted from the time of his obtaining a warrant, his literary and scientific acquirements were very respectable; and among his brother officers he was always considered a man of uncommon intellect, as well as great courage and professional skill.
In December, 1813, he married Jane, the daughter of Mr. Hoope, of New York, the old and respected friend of his father; by whom he has left an only daughter, who received one of the most noble and substantial tributes of national gratitude which has occurred in the history of this country.
On the 27th of December, 1816, the legislature of North Carolina, after prescribing the destination of the sword they had voted to Captain Blakeley, “Resolved unanimously, that Captain Blakeley’s child be educated at the expense of this state; and that Mrs. Blakeley be requested to draw on the treasurer of this state, from time to time, for such sums of money as shall be required for the education of the said child.” This, we repeat, is substantial gratitude. It is classical, too, and reminds us of those noble eras in the history of some of the illustrious states of Greece, when the offspring of those who had fallen for their country, became the children of that country whose cause had made them fatherless. It is in this way that our states may acquire a parental character, that will endear them still more to the hearts of the citizens; that will inspire fathers to die in defence of their country, and be held up as an example to the world.
It is in this way, too, that the different members of the Union may nobly indulge their local feelings, and display their honest homebred affections. Let them exemplify their desire to appropriate to themselves the fame of their distinguished citizens, by their peculiar care in honoring their memory and cherishing their helpless orphans. A gold medal (see [Plate XIV.]) was, by a vote of Congress, presented to Captain Blakeley, for the capture of the British sloop-of-war Reindeer, Captain Manners, June 28th, 1814.